When it's all said and done, just how significant is CSX2000 in the great
cosmic entity that will be someday be summarized as "Automotive History of
the 20th Century"? After all, physically the car is little more than a Joe
Average AC body and chassis that 37 years ago found itself force fed a cast-iron
Ford V-8. Though there's little question Carroll Shelby wouldn't have spent
his life after retirement as a race driver puttering in a rose garden, the
Cobra phenomenon is unquestionably the genesis of his legend.

Were it not for this car, there would be no Shelby Cobras: 260, 289, 427,
Daytona Coupes, or otherwise. Were it not for this car, there would have
been no Shelby Mustangs. Likewise, were it not for this car, what would be
the chances of the Shelby-Chrysler connection ever happening.?

If not, count out the likelihood of there ever being a Dodge Viper. And we
wouldn't be surprised one chili-belchin' bit if Shelby has yet another car
up his sleeve after the Series 1 that will-someday, somehow-relate once again
to this very first Cobra.

So just how significant is this Anglo/American hot rod? As significant to
postwar sports car history as any single machine could possibly be.

Half the gauges don't work, though the right turn signal does. All the time.
No matter which levers I fiddle with. CSX2000's thin, wood-rimmed, alloy-spoked
steering wheel feels like its made of Red Vines. There are a few, shaggy
tears in the original leather seats. A crack in the blue paint on the top
edge of the dainty, alloy passenger door reveals a glimpse of the original
yellow finish. The engine compartment is a bit shabby, the welds on the handmade
headers not exactly NASA quality. Who knows how old these rock-hard, Goodyear
Motorway Special tires are: 6.70-15s on the rear, a 6.50-15 on the right
front, and a 6.40-15 on the left front - close enough. Some would label CSX2000
as "weathered" or even "thrashed", others would say it has "character." We'll
just say it's fabulously unmolested and deserves to stay that way.

Turn the key, press the starter button, and the solid-lifter V-8 snaps
awake, settling into a slightly cammy, clackety idle. Whisps of blue smoke
trail from the 1.5 inch diameter dual tailpipes, indicating piston rings
that were indeed rode hard, put away wet, and haven't seen much action in
the last 20 years. But the 260 revs willingly and, once running, transforms
the first Cobra from a vaunted, horrifyingly valuable museum piece into-as
Shelby calls 'em-a sport car. You know, a thing to be driven. It sounds good.
It even smells good-o/d car smells. Depress that firm clutch pedal, select
first with the stubby gearshift that falls perfectly to hand, and we're away.

It was now time to see what kind of market interest there was, and to nail
down a production deal with Ford and AC. CSX2000 needed something sharp to
wear for its coming out party, so Shelby sent the car to another L.A. racing
and customizing legend, Dean Jeffries, for its first paint job.

"I think I paid him $200. Actually, I don't think I paid him at all, chuckles
Shelby. "Maybe traded him something for the work. Jeffries painted the car
a bright metallic yellow/gold, the idea being a dazzling appearance under
the lights at the upcoming New York Auto Show. It should come as no surprise
that CSX2000 was the hit of that show, held in April 1962. According to Peter
Brock, early-on Shelby American employee and designer of the Ferrari-conquering
Cobra Daytona Coupe, "Carroll could have taken 500 orders at that time, but
he took only enough to get the thing off the ground. The people from Ford
were there, and everybody was enthusiastic, so they said, 'Okay. Let's do
it.'"

The agreement was that AC would build the body-chassis, and Ford would supply
the engine/transmission. The car would be marketed through Ford dealers as
the Shelby Cobra, wearing "Powered by Ford" emblems.

CSX2000 also served to further tantalize the press as to the potential of
the Cobra. After New York, the media-savvy Shelby had the car repainted several
times: "It was yellow, it was blue, I think it was red. Dean Jeffiies stripped
it again and again; we had to make it appear that we had more cars than just
this one!"

Development prototypes live a life not unlike that of an actor or rock star
on a meteoric rise to stardom. While on their way up, and for an often short
stint at the top, they're treated like the most important thing in the world:
loved by all they come in contact with, the subject of constant attention.